Unrequited
by JoMarchWrites
Summary: The Behavioral Analysis Unit is called to New York in the hope of apprehending a treacherous killer who has waged war against those whose sins have gone unabsolved, avenging the ones who've been sinned against. The investigation brings out the best, and worst, of the agents involved. After all, no good deed goes unpunished, and no act of love is ever left unrequited. (EO, Morcia)
1. Unrequited 1

_**Part 1: The Profilers**_

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

_Fredorico Garcia Lorca wrote, "To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves." _

**The BAU Jet, somewhere above Virginia**

The view outside the plane's window took her breath away; it was both fantastically complex and beautifully simplistic at once. Shapes and colors, geometric patterns surrounded by pools of blue and green, but she knew that intricacies and details were hidden beneath the distance and altitude. She laughed at her own musings, realizing that the same could be said for people.

"You seem particularly pensive, today," a younger man with long, light hair and deep-set eyes stared at her while he raised a foam cup to his lips.

"I am," she replied, offering a modest smile and slight nod. "Just thinking about..." she paused, and then tilted her head slightly. She fingered the simple silver band on her finger. "Reid, have you ever had to keep a secret, one that you knew would cause a lot of damage, when you really just wanted to tell the world the truth?"

The skin between his eyes crinkled as he thought about her question. He seemed to filter through every memory he had to give her an honest answer. "Yes," he said, his face relaxing. "Once. I had to hold back the majority of a profile because one of our suspects was part of the investigative team."

She laughed. "That's...that's not really what I meant, but..."

"Benson," a voice interrupted her. A tragically handsome man walked toward her, his hands weighed down with files and coffee. He sat beside her, nodded once to Spencer Reid, and then looked toward her again. "When we land, I need you go straight to the local PD, see if you can get access to their systems, we need to know if there are any other cases with similar patterns. Look for victimology, MO, anything the might be a signature."

Her eyes narrowed. "I thought they gave us everything," she said, taking the file the man had offered her. "What aren't you telling us, Hotch?"

"Nothing," he said, sipping his coffee. "Just...something in the way the bodies are laid out, the locations. I think I've seen this guy before, and if I'm right this could become a very high-profile case. I want to know, first thing, if there are any cold cases that might be connected."

She read through the file, looking at the photos, and asked, "Isn't that something Garcia or JJ..."

"You," he said firmly, "Handle it personally. JJ has her hands full already, and Garcia needs to be free to run other searches and traces on anything you dig up." He sipped his coffee again and said, "We will be on your turf, Benson. They'll talk to you."

"No," she sighed, rubbing her fingertips into her forehead. "They won't."

"Someone will," Reid said with a knowing smile. He turned the foam cup around in his hand. "You know who," he nodded eagerly at her. "I'm sure he has the authority to ensure you get whatever you ask for, right? He always sounded like an alpha male, and when JJ took the call, she was under the impression we would have the full cooperation of the NYPD."

"Oh, they'll cooperate with the team," she said, "Just not with me. When I left they...well, let's just say some of them are still pretty pissed off at me. I'm not even an…"

"Didn't Hotch tell you?" Reid questioned, interrupting her. He grinned, looking from his supervisor back to her. "We aren't going to Manhattan, Olivia, we're going to Queens." He saw her facial expression change, noticed her gaze shoot down to her ring, and he grinned. Some people, he thought, are just too easy to profile.

**Homicide Division, NYPD 105th Precinct, Queens, New York**

"I really wish you would wait," a curly-haired woman in a floral dress pleaded as she struggled to keep up with the several official-looking people walking ahead of her. Her heels clicked against the tiles and her arms waved frantically. "It's not like he's just some department head, you know! He has appointments here! At least let me tell him you're going in there."

"He's expecting us," Hotchner said without turning around. He rounded the corner followed by Olivia, who was walking beside Reid. Behind them, Agent Morgan was chatting on the phone with his girlfriend, or at least that's what the context of the conversation suggested. Hotchner pushed through a pair of wooden double-doors, holding it open for his team. "Are we interrupting you?"

"Not at all," came the response. "Elliot Stabler, Chief of Detectives," the man said, holding out his hand to Hotchner. "Thanks for coming. I know you guys were still in Florida when I called."

"Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner," he nodded as he shook Elliot's hand. "This is Doctor Spencer Reid," he said, gesturing to the younger man.

Elliot laughed. "Yeah, I heard about you," he said, shaking Reid's hand as well. "All very good, very impressive stuff."

"Oh," Reid said. "It's all true."

Elliot shot the kid a look, as Hotchner continued the introductions. "That is Agent Morgan, and of course, you know Agent Benson."

"Agent Benson, huh?" Elliot asked mockingly. "You look familiar." He bit his lip and slowly reached out a hand.

Olivia smiled and waved at him, then yelped as she was pulled a bit closer to him in a firm yet playful handshake. "Yeah, I think we've met a couple times," she said, rolling her eyes and swatting him in the arm.

Hotchner let his lips curl into a small smile. He looked again at Elliot. "I wish we were meeting under different circumstances," he said, dropping a briefcase onto the round conference table. "Where's JJ?"

"Oh, uh, is that the blonde?" Elliot asked, scratching his head. "I thought her name was..."

"Agent Jennifer Jareau," Reid explained. "We call her JJ, similar to the way you two never refer to each other by your full monikers, unless you're emotionally agitated with each other."

Elliot stared at Reid with his hands on his hips. "Well, how about that?" he scoffed, impressed.

"JJ? Where?" Hotchner interjected, impatience seeping from every word.

"I'm right here," JJ said as she walked into the room. "I was making copies of these for all of you," she said, tossing around stapled dossiers. "Latest victim is Andrea Nash, twenty-seven years old, from Kew Gardens." She pushed a button on a small remote in her right hand, using her left to point to images that appeared on a screen behind her. "She was last seen coming out of the gym at ten o'clock Sunday night, her fiancée reported her missing Monday morning, after her gym bag turned up on his doorstep with a note." She hit the button again, and an image of the scrawled letter popped up on the screen.

Olivia leaned back in her chair and read, "Two days. Tell the truth, or she dies."

"Her body was found laid out in a pew at Living Hope Christian Church, a few blocks from here, on Tuesday," JJ told the room full of people, her eyes landing on each intense face. Both eyes widened and she sighed as she said, "Two days."

Elliot swiped two fingers of his left hand across his chin, back and forth, as he licked his lips. "Tell the truth..." he mumbled to himself. "Then she's dumped at a church...absolving her of sin? This is religious."

Reid looked at Elliot with a flat smile. "It very well could be. Maybe the un-sub felt she needed to die for her sins, or the sins of someone else. If the note was meant for the boyfriend, he had to confess in two days time or she would be his sacrifice to appease God. Time ran out."

"Fiancée," Morgan spoke, correcting Reid and proving he was paying attention, then turned his attention back to his phone call.

"Morgan, either put it on speaker or hang up," Hotchner ordered, glancing sideways at the devilishly good-looking, younger agent.

Morgan pulled off his sunglasses, said, "Hold on, baby girl," and clicked a button on his phone. He dropped the device onto the table and yelled, "You're on speaker."

"Ah, my adoring fans request my presence?" Garcia, the resident computer analyst, chirped on the other end.

"Something like that," Hotchner said. "What background can you give us on Andrea Nash?"

The group heard clicking and what sounded like the popping of bubble gum. "Graduate of Queens College, had no career to speak of, was living off of her wealthy parents until two years ago when she moved in with her boyfriend Scott Randall," she said matter-of-factly. "When they got engaged six months ago, her parents cut her off."

"Are they Catholic?" Elliot asked, though he wasn't sure who he was actually talking to.

"She was baptized," Garcia said, "And she was registered for Pre-Cana at a church in Queens, but she never showed up for the first class."

"Okay," Reid said, folding his hands. "We should also look into the gym. Could you get a list of members? Cross reference with any of the other victims? It could be how the un-sub is finding the girls." He made an odd pattern in the air with his index finger. "Oh, look at social media platforms, too. Any posts mentioning being at the gym alone, late at night may have given the un-sub the all-clear."

Garcia hummed as she tapped away at her computer. "Double whammy," she said. "Two other victims, Rebecca Tomlinson and Wendy Scarpelli, went to the same gym, and Andrea checked in there on FourSqaure at eight on Sunday night."

"It's a start," Hotchner said. "Garcia, keep looking for other connections between the victims. Three went to that gym, but we've got two who didn't, and if we don't find this guy soon we'll have another one. Call me when you get something useful."

"Your wish is my command," Garcia said, and then the phone beeped. She'd hung up.

Hotchner looked at each person individually, folded his arms, and said, "When Rossi gets in, we need to re-trace the un-sub's steps, starting with where the first victim was found."

"We have to map them, Hotch. Might give us clues to a central location," Morgan said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "I need to look at evidence logs, trace on clothes, fibers, anything that could link them to a single crime scene."

Elliot nodded. "Everything we've got is all yours," he gestured to the piles of file folders on the table, watching as Morgan reached for them eagerly. "What…you're calling him an un-sub"

"Unknown subject of the investigation," Reid said. "And we aren't sure it's a male, since there's no sexual component to the murders." He flicked his hair back and drummed his fingers on the table. "This might be someone suffering from severe delusions. A psychological break as a result of rigid religious upbringing, which explains the churches, or someone impacted by a severe stressor. Maybe this person feels betrayed and is taking it out on other people who've been deceitful. Could be someone lied to him, or her, which caused the un-sub to lash out and punish them via surrogates. I'm going to have check out a theory. Where's the nearest library?"

Having understood very little of what Reid had said, Elliot simply blinked rapidly. "Uh, Two-hundred-and-seventh street, a few blocks over, but there are computers upstairs you could..."

"I prefer books. Tangible and reliable. But thanks! I'll be back in about twenty minutes." He shot out of his chair and ran toward the door, but stopped and turned to look at Elliot. "I heard pretty impressive things about you, too, Sir," he said with a smile, then tugged on the strap of his messenger bag and left the room.

Elliot looked at Olivia, laughing, and then sighed as he flipped through the packet he'd been given. "I think we're on the right track, here, this has to be religiously motivated. They were all found at churches."

"Not all of them," Olivia said, leaning over him. She crossed her right arm over his chest, flipping the pages fast, and then tapped a picture. "Her. She was found at a school."

"A Catholic school," he said, looking at her. "To a devoutly religious person, that's pretty much the same thing."

"How are you handling this" she asked him, a softer tone to her voice. "This is hitting pretty close to home."

He sighed and turned his head, brushed her hair behind her ear, and said, "I'm handling it, but, uh, I'm a lot better now that you're here."

She smiled, her eyes beamed as she looked into his for a long moment, and the pair focused back on the reports.

Morgan looked around the room, and then looked at Hotchner. "Where's Rossi?"

"He'll meet us here tonight," Hotchner answered. "He had to give a lecture at NYU." He turned sharply toward Elliot, clearing his throat to garner his attention. "Pardon the interruption."

Olivia leaned back in her own chair and pulled away from Elliot. "You weren't interrupting."

"When did you realize you had a serial killer on your hands?" Hotchner asked. "And why did you bring us in? Aside from the obvious reason," he nodded once at Olivia.

"Hey, you're just borrowing her, remember that," Elliot told him, crossing his arms. "As soon as you find a full time replacement, she's back here with the NYPD, where she belongs." He glanced at Olivia, then looked back at Hotchner. "When I looked over the reports, there were too many things that...couldn't be coincidental. The notes, for one thing."

"There were other notes?" Hotchner asked, brow furrowed.

Elliot smirked. "You're not one for reading, are you?" he surmised. "I don't have pictures of them, but they're mentioned in every interview...family members were left with personal belongings, the last things the victims had with them, and a note. It wasn't caught right away because the murders were investigated by four different precincts. I'm the one that has to review all of them, so as soon as I noticed...I called you." He shot Olivia another quick look before saying, "I have enough history with the FBI to know when something's out of my jurisdiction, and the last thing I wanted was someone barging in unannounced."

"I have someone upstairs digging through old cases, by the way, like you asked," Olivia said. "I just hope you find what you're looking for. I want to get this guy."

"We'll get him," Hotchner said, nodding and attempting a smile that didn't come off as snide. "Oh, one more thing, Chief," he said as he shoved a stack of papers into his briefcase, "I think we've already found a permanent replacement." He looked deliberately at Olivia, then picked up his case and walked out of the office.

_**My attempt at a crossover; it works well with these two shows.**_

_**Reviews are welcome.**_

_**Peace and Love**_

_**Jo**_


	2. Unrequited 2

_**Part 2: The Profiled**_

_**Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction.**_

**Howard Johnson Inn, 220****th**** Street, Queens New York, Lobby Cafe**

JJ rolled out the kinks in her neck, squeezing her eyes shut. She threw a file onto the table in front of her and said, "Anyone else have a headache?"

"Constant," Olivia replied, her fingers already rubbing circles into her temples. She took a breath, then dropped her hands, palms flat, to the wooden surface. "I'm intensely Catholic, my parents were strict, I was severely punished for the smallest infraction…"

"No, Liv, that's me," Elliot said from her left, shaking his head in recollection of his childhood.

She ignored him, continuing her line of thinking. "I had to go to Confession every Sunday, repenting for my sins, and I expect everyone around me to do the same thing." She bit her lip. "What happens that makes me snap, makes me believe it's my job to bring them to confess?"

Hotchner looked at Elliot. "Chief," he said with a single nod. "You just said…that's you…so what would make you take on that responsibility?"

"Mortal sins," Elliot surmised with shrug. "Someone close to me either sinned or made me the sinner, bringing up memories of the repentances of my youth?"

Reid looked at Elliot with a smile. "Not bad," he said approvingly. "You'd make a decent profiler, yourself. Have you considered applying for a position on the team? There are two vacancies, actually. Well, one, if you discount the spot currently being filled by your wife."

"Has anyone ever counted how many words you can say in a full minute?" Elliot asked, flummoxed. He turned to look at Olivia and sighed. "This is a lot of rage," he told her, narrowing his eyes. "Those girls…they didn't go quickly or painlessly, and the coroner's all said the same thing, a majority of the wounds were excessive, post-mortem. That's hostility."

Morgan's phone rang, and he answered with a smirk while everyone grabbed another file and swapped photos. "Hey, angel face. Tell me something good," he said, then he chuckled and ran his tongue along his lips. "That is…very good, sweet thing, but I meant about the case. Oh, yeah, they're all here." He laid his phone down in the center of the small table and said, "You've got a captive audience, doll."

From the phone, Garcia stated, "I am about to earn a standing ovation." There was clicking, a short buzzing noise, and then she spoke again. "Something our resident genius said about social media before stuck with me. Every one of the victims had an internet connection, forgive the pun, but it wasn't direct."

"Explain," Hotchner prodded.

"I'd never leave you hanging, sir," Garcia said lightly. "In each of the reports, the notified family members had been given a note. I included those people in my search, and blam-o! They were all members of an online group called Cache Confessional, where users anonymously confess to things like cheating on their significant others, shoplifting, someone even posted a sincere apology for poisoning their neighbor's dog. Some of them are harmless, others are pretty deviant crimes."

Agent Rossi, having finally joined the team after his lecture, drank down his coffee and flipped open a file. "Alright," he said, leaning forward a bit, "Let's run down the list. First victim, Rebecca Tomlinson, her mother found the note in her mailbox with a necklace."

"Judith Tomlinson," Garcia confirmed, "User name HeyJudeNY, confessed to having an affair with her husband's business partner on Thursday, January fifteenth, Rebecca was abducted from the gym the next day."

Hotchner was sitting straight and still, attentive. "Dana Holbrook," he said.

"Her father, Daniel Holbrook, username DanTheManatee, posted on the board at midnight, January nineteenth," Garcia said, "His confession, and I quote, 'I shouldn't have been behind the wheel. He came out of nowhere. I'm so sorry'." She was speaking fast and typing faster. "Dana went missing January twentieth."

"Wendy Scarpelli," Rossi said, his eyes darting around the room, hoping to see the eagerness on the faces of his team. They were getting somewhere.

Garcia hummed and clicked away, and then said, "Oh, my stars." She cleared her throat. "Victor Scarpelli, username VicInQueens, posted a short message on the site on January twenty-third, all it says is, 'I helped him hide the body.' Wendy was attacked in the alley near the gym the next day."

Hotchner looked hopeful, proud, and said, "Vanessa Schwatzman."

"Louis Schwartzmen, her brother, username KewJewLNS, told his buddies he witnessed a rape at a party on the twenty-sixth, he did nothing to stop it." It sounded like Garcia was hitting the keys harder as she said, "Vanessa never came home from night school on the twenty-seventh."

"They found her on the twenty-ninth," JJ said out loud.

Hotchner, unwilling to put an end to the roll they'd been on, threw his pen down and huffed. "Wait," he spat. "There's a clear pattern, I think we may have something here, but... Andrea Nash wasn't abducted until February first. There's a two day gap between…"

"The server was down on the thirtieth," Garcia interrupted triumphantly. "There are angry posts about it on every single message board. Nash's boyfriend posted about seeing three other women and calling off his engagement on the thirty-first. Saturday."

"And she was taken on Sunday," Morgan said, squeezing the bridge of his nose. "She was found at the church on Tuesday."

Reid looked at Rossi, then at Hotchner, then at Benson and Stabler. "Today's Thursday. If the pattern holds, we need to look through yesterday's postings. He's already chosen his next victim."

"Garcia," Rossi called to the disembodied voice on the other end of the phone, "Can you narrow down the posts, focusing on ones originating in Queens?"

"Are you kidding? Already done," Garcia replied. "Yesterday, there were twenty-nine posts from Queens and surrounding areas."

"How many of them are moderately heinous crimes?" Reid questioned. "Our un-sub would be drawn to the more severe, along the lines of the Seven Deadly Sins, murder and adultery…that's wrath and lust. There's also pride, sloth, greed, envy, and gluttony."

"Filtering out lying about doing homework, then?" Garcia assumed, typing. "Down to twelve. Four affairs, two of them with multiple partners, two people lied to their bosses to take the week off of work…that's the lazy one, right? Slop?"

"Sloth," Elliot and Reid said at the same time, sharing a look.

"I've also got two admissions of eating entire chocolate cakes, one person used their medical insurance for a nose-job, two people are embezzling money from their companies, and a pack of beauty pageant contestants pushed the first-runner-up down a flight of stairs."

"Damn," Morgan said, shaking his head. "You are my golden goddess, you know that, right?"

Garcia laughed. "I am pretty fantabulous, aren't I?" She typed for a moment, then said, "The real names and addresses of those users are being sent to your cell phones…right…now."

"If they're already confessing," Elliot started, "Why is the perp demanding they do it again?"

"The message boards are anonymous," Reid said, pulling three books out of his messenger bag. He laid them out on the table and flipped to pages that had been marked with sticky notes. "The un-sub feels they must own their transgressions, take responsibility for their sins so they may find pure absolution in the eyes of God." He took one of the books and flipped it around, and then slid it over to Elliot. "Ambrose Bierce wrote that the true and exact meaning of redemption is 'deliverance of sinners from the penalty of their sin through their murder of the deity against whom they sinned.' The un-sub is offering these people redemption, likely because the chance for his or her own redemption was never taken."

"Was this the theory you were working on?" Elliot asked, turning the worn copy of _The Unabridged Devil's Dictionary_over in his hands. "Why you went to the library?"

Reid said, "Yes," as he handed another opened book to Rossi. "Here, Peter Kreeft says, 'We sinned for no reason but an incomprehensible lack of love, and He saved us for no reason but an incomprehensible excess of love." He glanced at JJ, then looked at Elliot. "The un-sub is forcing the 'sinners' to decide which is more important, their loved ones or the temptation to sin again."

Rossi closed the book Reid gave him, and he ran a finger over the embossed title. "_Jesus-Shock._ We sin because we feel unloved, and we are absolved because we are so loved, that's the gist?"

Reid nodded. "I think our un-sub might be a theology major, or studying at a seminary. I checked out the three most popular contemporary parochial titles they had, I only read each of them once, so I may be misquoting, but I don't think so."

Olivia held back a laugh as she saw the exasperated expression on Elliot's face. She looked over at Reid and asked, "What makes you think it's a theology major?"

"Religious upbringing combined with the nature of the crimes and the prophetic justification of the killings," Reid said, turning his attention to Rossi and JJ. "We're looking for someone who chose the religious path, both in life and career, who truly believes God chose them to make these sacrifices." He shifted in his seat and looked toward Rossi. "The victims were all between twenty and thirty years old, which leads me to believe our un-sub is of similar age, someone still studying or recently entered into the vocation."

"Garcia, you still there?" Rossi shouted toward the phone, still in the middle of the table.

"Yoda is always here," she quipped. "I was just taking a brief sabbatical while our young Padawan showed you all how to use The Force."

A few chuckles filtered through the air, then Rossi spoke again. "Follow the Jedi path," he joked, "See if anyone in that internet group is studying or practicing any kind of religious theory, and while you're at it, monitor the local PD hotlines. If another girl goes missing before we reach out to all twelve of our merry sinners, I want you to be the first to know. I expect to be the second."

"Disappoint you, I will not, Sir," she chirped. "Garcia, out." She hung up and the phone went silent.

Hotchner looked around. "We'll split up. Morgan, you go with Benson and Stabler, take the first six names on the list. Rossi, Reid, you're with me on the last six. JJ, I need you here fielding the media calls."

"Yeah," she said, looking at the group wistfully as they rose and grabbed their gear. "Be careful." She watched them leave through the hotel's revolving doors, and she gave a short chuckle when she looked back at the table. "Why am I always the one cleaning up after them?" she asked herself, starting to sort and restack files.

As she picked up a handful of photos, she noticed something subtle in the top picture. Subtle, but significant. "Shit," she griped. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, swiped in her passcode and hit an icon, dialing Hotchner. "Hotch, it's me. The un-sub's a woman."

_**My attempt at a crossover; it works well with these two shows.**_

_**Reviews are welcome.**_

_**Peace and Love**_

_**Jo**_


	3. Unrequited 3

**_Part 3: The Profile Unfolds_**

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

**Conference Room, NYPD 105th Precinct, Queens, NY**

Elliot watched from his seat, slowly swiveling back and forth absentmindedly, as Olivia pushed red tacks into a map on a large corkboard. "We'll try again," he told her, though he was sad about the negative test results, too. "What made you even think you were..."

"I'm late," she shrugged, picking up more tacks from the box on the table. "It's probably stress, anyway. This job isn't easy and we don't get many breaks." She sighed and said, "I'm kind of relieved, actually. I don't want to be away from you if I'm..." She stopped, hearing footsteps. She turned and smiled at Morgan who'd come into the room with a few more files.

Elliot stopped moving his chair and eyed Morgan for a moment. There was just something irksome about the suave agent, something he didn't like much. He let out a breath, and then turned back toward Olivia. "How...how do you do this everyday, baby?"

She smiled sadly, her back to him, as she shoved another pin into the map, marking off the locations in which their victims had been found. "It's no different than what we did back at the One-Six," she said, "Chasing monsters."

"No, Liv, this...you have to get inside their heads," he spoke mechanically, afraid to admit he'd been doing exactly that since the moment he became a cop. "It doesn't all just go away, not when you're this involved. The case closes but..."

"I haven't forgotten a single case since I got my first assignment after the academy," she interrupted, looking over her shoulder. "I remember every victim. This...this job...it's more personal. Everyone always used to tell us we got too involved, right? They always said I got too close, too personal. With this job...it's a benefit. It's a good thing." She took a step back, focusing on the map, and she followed the pattern of pushpins. "Do you see that?"

Elliot squinted, rising. He walked over to her, crossed his arms, and said, "Elmhurst," he said, pointing. "It's right in the middle. All those churches fan out around it, that school is nearby, maybe a...what...twenty to thirty mile radius?"

"Morgan?" Olivia shouted toward the back of the room.

Morgan looked up from a pile of photographs. "Yo!"

"Get Garcia on the phone, tell her to find out if anyone on that website is from Elmhurst, Queens," Olivia told him, walking over to him. "See if she can get an IP address, or an actual one..."

Morgan laughed. "You know she can," he cut her off, whipping out his phone and dialing. He pushed the speaker button and spun around in his chair.

"This is the office of unquestionable genius," Garcia said cheerily. "Supreme Queen speaking, what can I do for you, sexy pants?"

"You're on speaker," Morgan said, not embarrassed at all, licking his lips.

"I'm aware," Garcia said. You could hear the smirk in her voice.

Morgan laughed and said, "We need names of anyone from those message boards located in Elmhurst."

Her key-clicking hit the ears of everyone in the room and she hummed a pleasant tune as she worked. "Six. Other parameters? I can have this narrowed down for you in a nanosecond."

"Are there any women?" Morgan asked, then he added, "I love it when you talk nerdy to me, you know that right?"

"Oh, well, I will give you a full lecture on quantum physics and quark theorem, when you're naked and alone," she teased. "Two women, names and addresses hitting your cells now. I will send you any other information I can dig up in a jiffy."

"You are my miracle worker, baby girl," Morgan said with a grin.

Garcia let out a small chuckle and said, "And you are a chocolate-covered Adonis. I'll be right here, waiting to work your next miracle."

Morgan shook his head and pursed his lips as he hung up the phone, and it was clear he was picturing something rather unprofessional in his mind. "She's amazing, isn't she?" He stared for a moment at his phone before putting it back in his pocket.

As various devices bleeped simultaneously, JJ, Hotchner, Reid, and Rossi walked into the room, each with a severe expression. "Any luck?" Rossi asked, immediately heading over to the coffee pot on a table near Morgan.

"No one missing," Elliot said. "Not from the families we visited."

Reid shook his head. "That doesn't make any sense," he said, pulling his messenger bag off of his shoulder and dropping it onto the table. "An unsub with this specific patterning wouldn't veer from it. There were hundreds of posts on that message board that would have given her the perfect opportunity."

"I'm assuming, then, that no one went missing from any of yours, either," Elliot said, running a hand down his face. "Oh, while you were gone, Liv mapped out the dump sites. Looks like they all spiral out from Elmhurst."

Hotchner looked at the map and nodded. "Get Garcia on the..."

"Already done," Olivia said, smiling. "Check your phone."

Hotchner squinted, shoved his hand in his jacket pocket, and when he saw the text message and attachment from Garcia, he looked up at Olivia. "You're good," he told her with a smile. Then he gave Elliot a slightly arrogant glance before turning to Reid. "How could a woman be capable of..."

"We're looking for a stronger female, obviously. One who could easily overpower the smaller, lighter women," Reid interrupted. "But one that certainly expresses at least moderate remorse after killing her victims. As JJ noticed in the photos, and I'm not going to mention that it should have also been noted in the detectives' reports, that all of the victims had crescent shaped marks in their arms and necks, an indicator of long, but sharp nails, and the positioning of the bodies and pristine appearances, having their make-up applied and hair combed and styled, are indicative of a female killer." He walked over to Morgan, ripped the pictures out of his hands, and sauntered over to the corkboard. He pinned each picture up as he spoke. "This type of obsessive and clearly organized behavior would suggest that our unsub would not stray from the timeline. We're looking for someone who is tightly tethered to schedules. An athlete maybe?"

"Why the overkill?" Morgan asked, getting out of his chair. "I mean, these girls were practically slaughtered. The unsub mutilates them, then she takes the time to give them makeovers? Female serial killers rarely use such violent means, they're more likely to poison or smother their victims."

Reid nodded, turning around. "Which is why we're looking for someone stronger, probably larger," he said. He ran over to his bag and pulled out a book, flipping through several bookmarked pages. "She wouldn't be considered feminine, and athletes, especially females, feel inadequate, as though they have something to prove. They're ninety percent more likely to use performance enhancers and steroids, which, in turn, would boost testosterone levels."

"Roid rage," Elliot said, understanding Reid for the first time.

Olivia scrolled through the list of names Garcia had sent, and she tapped the screen of her phone. "Sarah Hyde," she said, reading the information. "All-state gymnast in high-school, female wrestler in college, dropped out to..."

"What?" Elliot prodded. "I know that look, and I know when you just stop talking like that..."

Olivia held up her phone, looking at Elliot. "She became a crisis counselor at New Life Fellowship, in Elmhurst."

JJ spoke up, then, after hanging up a phone call. "Hey, guys," she said, stepping into the middle of the group. "Garcia just picked up a call from the One-Hundred-and-Fourteenth precinct. A woman called, hysterical. Her daughter never came home from her church choir practice."

"Morgan, take Reid and Benson, get out to Sarah Hyde's residence," Rossi said, moving fast. "Stabler, you come with me and Hotch."

"Where are we going?" Elliot asked, giving Olivia a pleading look. He didn't want to go anywhere without her, his mind still on their earlier conversation.

Rossi pulled his cell phone and dialed a number. "To talk to that woman," he said, lifting the phone to his ear. "Garcia," he said, "Run a trace on that call."

"She had to have been taken earlier today or late last night," Hotchner said, following Rossi and Elliot out of the room. "But if no one on the board was..."

"There are other places people confess," Elliot said, cutting him off. "If your perp...unsub, sorry...works at this fellowship, she may have heard it at one of the youth group meetings or..."

"Church services," Hotchner said, nodding. He looked at Elliot as they walked out of the building. "I get it now."

Elliot paused, looked at Hotchner, and asked, "Get what?"

"Why Benson married you," Hotchner replied, getting into the black SUV.

Elliot made an irritated face as he got in the back of the vehicle, and he felt his stomach drop. If they were right, this would all end tonight, and Olivia would be on a plane to her next case, leaving him alone again. "Hey, uh, Agent Rossi?"

Rossi looked at Elliot through the rear-view mirror. "Please, why so formal? Drop the 'agent,' okay? We're practically family."

Elliot chuckled. "Reid said something about there being another spot in the unit." He licked his lips, closed his eyes, and thought for a moment before looking back at Rossi. "I might know a guy."

**_Reviews are always lovely ;) Thanks for reading._**

**_Peace and Love_**

**_Jo_**


	4. Unrequited 4

**_Part 4: Gains and Losses_**

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

**Reardon Residence, 8834 45th Ave, Elmhurst, Queens, NY**

"Yes, that's right," Arlene Reardon said through soft sobs, responding to Rossi's question. "I wasn't sure why...we're Catholic, we go to our own church every Sunday. When Riley told us she wanted to go to New Life..." she paused to blow her nose, "We supported her. We understood why, and we only want her to be happy. She found a renewed faith, she joined the choir, and she was so...happy." She turned her head and buried herself in her husband's chest.

"Please," Kieth Reardon said, rubbing his wife's back as she cried. "You have to find her."

"We're doing everything we can," Hotchner said. "But we need to know...is there anything your daughter..."

"Riley," Arlene cried, "Her name is Riley. She's only twenty-one years old. Oh, my God," she lost herself in a tumult of tears and clutched her husband tighter.

Hotchner cleared his throat and blinked once, trying to stay objective and stable. "Is there anything going on at home, maybe at school, that Riley might have needed to speak to a counselor about? Anything...maybe she felt the need to express in Confession?"

Kieth Reardon's eyes widened as he gasped, then he squinted angrily at Hotchner. "What exactly are you implying?"

Rossi cut in, hoping to defuse the situation before it could escalate. "We have reason to believe the person who kidnapped your daughter has been targeting people who have, in some way or another, committed a sin. One grave enough to be kept a secret." He raised both hands and gestured gently to Mister Reardon. "I am not implying that Riley, or one of you, as done anything wrong, but if you of something...someone close to her...a boyfriend or..."

"Girlfriend," Kieth said, his eyes closing as he expelled a soft breath. "That's why she joined the fellowship." He blinked and a few tears rolled down his cheeks. "Our church wasn't as understanding, but I swear to you, Agent Rossi, we didn't care as long as she was..."

"We aren't judging you," Elliot interjected, a sincere smile on his face. "You're good parents. No one is doubting that. But, please, you were saying?"

Kieth sniffled and wiped his face with his free hand, one still slowly circling his wife's back. "Her girlfriend...sent her a few texts...accidentally. They were meant for someone else...she was so upset, she met with a counselor to seek advice, how to ask her about it, fix things."

"We need Riley's girlfriend's name," Hotchner said. "If we can get to her, we will be able to bring your daughter back."

Arlene Reardon's head popped up. She sniffled and rubbed her eyes, and looked directly into Hotchner's eyes. "Her name is Kimberley. Kimberley Durwin."

**Hyde Residence, 5339 80th St., Elmhurst, Queens, NY**

"FBI," Olivia said, staring at a heavy, wooden door, her gun ready in her hands.

Morgan knocked again. "Sarah Hyde," he yelled, "This is the FBI, open the door!"

Olivia shot him a look, gripped her gun tighter as she braced herself, and nodded to Morgan.

Morgan reared back, then kicked hard, bursting the door open and knocking it off its hinges. He aimed his gun as he darted to the left, knowing Olivia had gone to the right. "Clear," he said to her and Reid.

Olivia took a few more steps, carefully turning a corner. "Clear." She moved again, her gun held steady, and she looked into each room she came across, cursing under her breath when each turned up empty. "Clear," she said, one last time, holstering her gun.

Morgan appeared at her side, then, followed by Reid. "Nothing," he said. "Place is empty."

"I think I may have found something," Reid said, his hand gingerly lifting a piece of paper off of an end-table in the dining room. He looked down and read, his face serious. "My dearest Sarah, I know you have always been the perfect wife and mother, but I am ashamed to say I haven't been the perfect husband or father. I've packed my things, I'll be leaving tonight, I'm sorry. Regretfully yours, Andrew."

Morgan took the letter out of Reid's hold, and with his other hand he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He tapped a button and flicked a key, putting the call on speaker.

"Talk to me in your bedroom voice," Garcia said, her voice low and throaty.

Morgan chuckled. "Maybe when you're not on speaker." He practically heard her blush and he continued. "I need more on Sarah Hyde. Hit me with everything you can get your nimble little fingers on."

"Look for a marriage license, oh, and birth records," Reid prompted. "Medical history might be helpful, if she's suffering a psychotic break now, she may have tried to seek help before she lost control."

Clicks and taps filtered out of the phone's speaker as Garcia spoke. "Sarah Hyde, married to Andrew Hyde in Nineteen-Ninety-Nine, at the ripe old age of eighteen. It didn't last, shocker, he filed for divorce...oh, oh, oh...wait...he didn't file, he went to one of those quickie divorce places eight months ago." There were more clicks. "She has two children, Connor, age fifteen, and Amelia, age eight. Both currently living with their father after a long custody battle. She was declared...mentally unstable...oh, cheese and crackers."

"What?" Olivia asked, her arms crossed. "What's the matter?"

Garcia took a sharp breath and said, "She went total Fatal Attraction on the man. I mean, down to boiling the bunny. She broke into his apartment three times, and was placed on a psychiatric hold, she was evaluated by a Doctor Hendrix at a facility in Manhattan, prescribed a slew of antidepressants and antipsychotics. She was supposed to go to weekly sessions but hasn't in over two months, violating a court order. Get this, as a result she lost visitation rights. Guess when?"

Reid looked at Morgan, then at Olivia, and then at the phone. He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Approximately one month ago?"

"That's correct, Doctor Genius," Garcia quipped.

Olivia shook her head. "There's our stressor."

"Thank you, my gorgeous," Morgan said, smiling. "You know, I love you, baby girl."

"And I love you, Captain Morgan," she said, and after a soft growl, "I could use a shot or two of you, right now."

Morgan laughed as he hung up, then looked at Reid. "So? Spill it."

Reid took a breath and nodded. "Andrew must have cheated on her, and he was granted a divorce without her involvement. Both mortal sins in the eyes of God in the Catholic faith. She did everything she could to save her soul, in her eyes, and when she couldn't she snapped."

"Where is she now?" Olivia asked. "If we don't find her soon, she's going to..." she was stopped when her cell phone rang. She took it out of her pocket, tapped an icon, and answered. "Benson," she said, still eyeing Reid. "Hey. Yeah. No, it's empty, we were just...oh," she looked at Morgan, wide-eyed. "Yeah, we'll meet you there." She smiled. "I love you, too." She hung up and made a face in response to Morgan's rolling eyes. "We have to listen to you and Garcia re-enact the less poetic scenes from _Vox_, and you're rolling your eyes at me?"

Reid laughed, though Morgan just huffed, and he asked, "What did Elliot have to say?"

"We have to meet them at fifty-one-thirty-seven Ireland Street," she said, heading out the front door, slapping a uniformed officer on the shoulder. "Thanks for coming," she said to the young cop, who had been called prior to them breaking down the door.

"Why?" Morgan said, picking up his pace when Olivia started running toward the SUV.

Olivia looked over at him as she got into the driver's seat and buckled up. "They found out Riley Reardon, our missing girl, has a girlfriend. That's her address. Hotch called her, asked a few questions." She started the car and shot Morgan another look. "She found a note and Riley's ring in her mailbox a few hours ago."

"Good reason," Morgan said, buckling his seat belt, and as Olivia pulled away, he stared at the cop they'd left on the porch and watched the broken door fade into the distance. "Hey," he said to Reid and Olivia, turning his head back toward the front of the car. "Can you guys keep a secret?"

Reid looked puzzled, and he leaned forward to speak directly to Morgan. "We're profilers," he said. He looked at Olivia knowingly and added, "There's no such thing as a secret."

**_Reviews are always welcome. _**

**_Peace and Love_**

**_Jo_**


	5. Unrequited 5

**_Part 5: Zeroing In_**

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction_**

**Durwin Residence, 5137 Ireland Street, Queens, NY**

"You're...you're going to find her, right?" Kimberley Durwin, teary eyed and shaking, asked the agents nervously.

"We're doing everything possible," Rossi assured her, before sending a skeptical glance over toward Olivia and Reid, who were analyzing the note left behind.

Hotchner cleared his throat. "Do you remember seeing anyone with Riley, after your group session?"

Durwin sniffled. "Just the counselor, Sarah," she said with a shrug. "Riley was asking if she could volunteer...earn hours for some scholarship she applied for." She swallowed hard and looked into Hotchner's eyes, her own betraying her worry and fear. "Is she really...she's in danger because of me?"

Rossi folded his hands and leaned toward her. "No, this is not your fault, and we're going to find her," he promised again. He rose out of his set, leaving Hotchner to finish questioning her, and he walked over to Reid. "Okay, Doc, tell me what ya got."

Reid looked at him, handing him the note, which was sealed in an evidence bag. "This one is slightly different than the others. The notes prior all gave a warning and a time frame, this one simply states that Riley won't be harmed if Kimberley confesses, and the signature is different." He pointed to the last line of the note with his pinky finger, and he said, "None of the others mentioned anything like this, I think we should ask Kimberley if there's a significance."

Rossi nodded, then headed back over to the couch. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, nodding to Hotchner as he sat on the sofa beside the scared young woman. "I just have to ask...this note, here, the last line says 'You know where to find your absolution," he told her, questioning glances being passed between them. "Do you have any idea what that means?"

"No, I..." and then Kimberley stopped, Her eyes widened. She went white.

Olivia was the first to speak. "Sweetie, if you know something, you have to tell us." She knelt down and looked the younger girl in the eyes. "You can help us save her."

"The chapel," Durwin whispered, her tears slowing. "It's back in the woods, behind the church. It's being renovated and she always told us when it was finished, it would be the perfect place to pray. To...to be absolved."

"Thank you," Olivia said, standing, and then she looked at Morgan. "Let's go," she said, automatically checking to make sure her gun was securely at her hip.

"I'm right behind you," Reid said, assuming he would go with his group. He was surprised, though, when Elliot started running alongside him. He opened his door and slid into the back seat, shifting over enough for Elliot to get in next to him. He sighed and looked at the older man. "What are you..."

"We're all going to the same place," Elliot interrupted. "Does it matter how many of us go in one car?"

"Not really, no," Reid said, shaking his head. He smiled, then, and spoke fast as Olivia and Morgan buckled their seat belts. "I was going to ask you what you thought of the offer Rossi made?"

Olivia turned her head as Morgan started the car and hit the buttons, starting the flashing lights and loud, wailing siren. "What offer?"

Elliot glared at Reid, and then looked at Olivia. "He, uh, offered me a job." He bit his lip, took a quick look over at Morgan, and then looked back at his wife. "Here. With the BAU."

Olivia was stunned. She looked at Elliot, expressionless, then turned around in her seat. "Can you hit the gas?" she asked Morgan, looking at her watch. "We're running out of time."

"You're not gonna say anything about that?" Morgan retorted, rounding a corner with screeching tires.

"Not right now," she told him, brows raised. "We have a job to do, I can't think about that right now."

Elliot leaned forward and whispered into her ear, "I'm taking it. Relax."

Her eyes closed, she swallowed hard, and she sunk a bit deeper into her seat. He always knew what was bothering her, and how to fix it. "Okay," she whispered back on a hard breath. She looked over at Morgan again. "How far?"

"Five minutes," Morgan said through gritted teeth. He swerved into another lane, avoiding traffic, and stepped harder on the gas.

Olivia picked up the two-way-radio and said, "Hotch, what's your twenty?"

"We're taking an alternate route, heading in through the clearing behind the chapel," Hotchner replied. "We will meet you there, two of you take the front, two on the side, Dave and I will go in through the back."

"You got it," Olivia said, dropping the radio to her lap. The number of thoughts scrambling around in her head was staggering, but she tried to focus on the problem at hand, the case, the victim. "Reid, what are the odds...?"

"Hard to say," Reid interrupted her. "There was no deadline on the note, so either Sarah Hyde is planning to give Kimberely more time, or less, or it was an accidental omission owing to the her emotional breakdown, ultimately leading to an escalation in violent action."

"That wasn't very reassuring," Elliot said, staring in bewilderment at Reid.

"No," Reid said, "But it was honest."

Morgan spun the wheel hard to his left, finally coming to a stop at the corner near the Fellowship Church, one wheel up on the curb. "Out," he spat. "Benson you're with me. Stabler, Reid, flank the side."

"On it," Reid said, drawing and readying his gun as he walked fast toward the side of the church.

"I don't..." he stopped, knowing this was a job, and they worked as a unit. There were no set pairs at the BAU, and he would have to get used to that. Fast.

**_Peace and Love_**

**_Jo_**


	6. Unrequited 6

**_Part 6: Veniam Orationem_**

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

**New life Fellowship Church's Reparation Chapel, 57th Avenue side of Elmhurst Park, Queens, NY**

Olivia walked ahead of Morgan, her gun in her hands, ready to aim. She reached one hand out, grabbed the handle, but it didn't budge. She turned to Morgan. "Hey," she whispered to him when they stopped. "Do your thing."

Morgan shook his head with a small chuckle, but turned serious quickly. He reared back and kicked hard, bursting through yet another door. He stepped in front of her, drawing his weapon. "Sarah Hyde," he called out into the small, dark building. "FBI...we just wanna talk to you!"

They heard a muffled scream, and they both moved faster toward the back of the room. They stopped in their tracks when bright lights shone on the patch of splintered wood and dust in front of them. Rossi and Hotchner had their flashlights trained on Sarah Hyde, who was leaning over a gagged and bound Riley Reardon. Elliot and Reid were on the other side, guns drawn. Sarah was surrounded. "You don't want to hurt her," Elliot said. "She's not the sinner, here, and you know that, don't you, Sarah?"

Sarah looked up at Elliot. "Spoken like a true sinner," she said, an air of disgust in her tone.

"I'm Catholic," he told her, taking a step closer. "Sarah, I...what if I was to confess something to you. Would that...would that be enough penance to pay for Riley's freedom?"

"You're not the one who needs to atone for what he's done!" Sarah was yelling now, standing. She had fury in her eyes. "Infidelity, murder, these people needed to pay one way or another! They have to know...sins are always punished!"

"An eye for an eye," Elliot said, nodding. He holstered his gun and unbuttoned his cuffs. He pushed up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his religious tattoo. He made sure Sarah saw it. "I don't believe that. Deep down, you don't either." He took a breath and another step toward her, distracting her enough so that Reid and Morgan could drag Riley away. "Yes, those people did need to pay for their sins, but you've hurt the innocent..."

"Innocent people always get hurt," Sarah said, laughing. "No sin...no evil deed is done, no wrong turn is taken without hurting those who do not deserve to be hurt. If I didn't teach them that their trespasses would not go unrequited, they would still be committing them! Hurting more people! I have done the world a favor, I have done God's work!"

"No," Elliot said, gently and with sincerity in his eyes. "No, Sarah, you...you've sinned. You have trespassed against your own truth."

Sarah shook her head. She Brought her head to her mouth as tears began to fall. "No. No, I was...I was saving their souls. I was seeking truth and getting justice, I was giving them their guaranteed ascension..."

"You killed people, Sarah," Elliot said, taking another step forward, reaching out his hands to her. He placed both hands gently on her shoulders. "You've committed moral sins, Sarah, over and over again. You...you need to seek your own redemption now."

She sobbed, falling to her knees. "No, I...I was only...I saved them." She cried harder and clasped her hands together, lowering her head, and she started praying as more tears fell and her sobs grew harsher. "Forgive me Father," she wailed, "For I...I have sinned." She fell to the floor as her howling grew louder and more pitiful.

Once she was crumpled on the ground, Hotchner and Rossi ran over to her, cuffing her and pulling her up to her unsteady feet again. Hotchner nodded once, approvingly, at Elliot. He led Hyde out of the building as Rossi crossed his arms and turned to Elliot. "Impressive," he said, grinning.

Elliot let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thanks," he huffed, relief filtering through his veins. "I wasn't sure that was gonna work." He looked at Olivia, who seemed as though she, too, had been holding her breath the entire time. Her face was slowly turning from a greyish-blue to it's usual tanned-olive. "Liv," he whispered, heading toward her.

She nodded fast, swallowing the urge to cry, scream, and throw herself around him. "Brilliant," she whispered, her hand moving to trace the delicate lines of his tattoo. "You were brilliant."

"I was being honest," he told her bluntly. "I hoped that the Catholic in her overwhelmed the psychopathic, and having someone who's obviously God-fearing tell her the reality of what she did would...literally...bring her to her knees."

Her eyes narrowed, then, as she looked into his. "What would you have told her?" she asked. "If...if she wanted your confession?"

He laughed, shook his head and bit his lip, then nudged her over toward Rossi. "I'll tell you later," he told her.

Reid and Morgan still had Riley between them, now unbound and covered with a blanket, and the team walked out of the run-down shack-like building, into the darkness of the trees and grass of the park. Elliot and Olivia hung behind the rest of the group, allowing themselves to relax for a moment before dealing with the aftermath of catching their un-sub. "So, you're...you're really taking the job?" Olivia asked him, hopeful.

Elliot cleared his throat and nodded. "If he officially offers it to me, yes. It was just a conversation, something he said, but...why, do you not want me to..."

"Of course, I want you to," she interrupted, nodding her thanks to Morgan when he opened the back door to the SUV for her. She slid in, Elliot scooting after her. "I just can't...you'd give up your life in New York for..."

"You did," Elliot countered. "Liv, agents have to be part of the bureau for at least ten years before even being considered for the BAU. I know Porter pulled strings for you."

She looked at him, stunned, speechless. "El, I didn't ask him to do any..."

He interrupted her. "He did, though, and you packed a bag and took off with them." He blinked. "Until you called, that first night away, I thought..." he paused, not wanting to say it.

"You thought I was running...from you?" she questioned. "Oh, El, no. Never." She pulled down his sleeved for him, though she wanted nothing more than to pull him toward her and prove how firmly she was not running anywhere. "I married you, that should tell you I...I stopped trying to run a long time ago."

"I know," he said, smiling at her as she buttoned his cuffs. "That's why...I can't stay here while you're flying God-knows-where every other day. I ruined half my life because I had a job that kept me from my family, baby, I am not gonna lose you the same fucking way. You said it yourself, if you're..."

"Guys," Morgan said, looking at them through the rear view mirror, "Case isn't closed yet, can you get your heads back in the game?"

Elliot sneered at him and leaned forward a bit. "What the hell is your problem, Morgan? You've been an asshole since the moment we met, and I really..."

"You are not right in the head, man, I don't have issues with you," Morgan retorted. "What I have issues with is people thinking they can do this job better than us, without the training, without the experience, and without the fucking balls!"

"Oh, give me a break," Elliot spat, scoffing. "I've done the training, I took the classes, and if you can't consider fifteen years in the NYPD, twelve of which were spent in the Special Victims Unit, fucking experience then what the fucking hell..."

Reid whistled, a shrill and loud sound that silenced Elliot. "Wow, I have heard of proverbial pissing contests, but this is really just an overabundance of testosterone and the inability to deal with the feeling of inadequacy when faced with a physical, mental, and emotional doppelganger. Neither one of you can handle being challenged or overshadowed by someone who, aside from upbringing and amount of melanin, is exactly like you." He looked at Olivia, and then at Elliot, and then at Morgan. "It also probably bothers Morgan that you, Elliot, have been able to be with your wife, and will more than likely be a part of her team, while Garcia has to stay in Quantico in her office, away from Morgan most of the time."

Morgan was silent, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

Elliot stared at Reid, trying to find some physical proof that he was a robot.

Olivia pressed her lips together to keep from laughing and she shared a look with Reid. The night was far from over, but for the first time in a long while, she didn't mind at all.

**_Peace and Love_**

**_Jo_**


	7. Unrequited 7

_**Part 7: Requietas**_

**_Law and Order: SVU is the intellectual property of Dick Wolf. Criminal Minds is the intellectual property of Jeff Davis. The use of the characters, settings, and plotlines is not malicious. This is a work of fiction._**

**Meeting and Observation Room, NYPD 105th Precinct, Queens, New York **

Olivia yawned, stretched, and rubbed her eyes as she poured herself another cup of coffee. "You're gonna have to get along with him," she mumbled, and then ran a hand through her hair.

"No, I won't," Elliot replied with a grunt, his feet up on the table. "I need to clean out my office, and I have to pack. How long is this gonna take?"

She smiled as she finally turned to look at him. She moved slowly toward the chair next to him and sat, and then answered, "You know how long interrogations can take."

"Well, usually..." he licked his lips and met her eyes. "I never kept track of time. It always just flew by...when it was us. The waiting, fuck, it's...why aren't we in there?"

She chuckled again, "Because Rossi and Reid are in there playing good-cop-bad-cop." She sipped her coffee and rolled some tension out of her neck. "She sympathizes with you, so you'll be the last person she speaks with, if they even want you to talk to her at all. This, technically, isn't your case."

"Yeah, about that..." he sat up and put his feet on the floor. "I never asked...I don't want you to think I don't trust you out there without me, or that I'm trying to step on your toes, but..."

"I don't think that," she interrupted, moving closer to him, but he held up a hand.

"Let me finish," he said, eyeing her strangely. He took a breath and swallowed hard. "I love you. You're my entire world, you know that. I know we could handle distance, we've always been able to bounce back from it, but...I'm so fucking lost without you."

She gave him a sad smile and reached for his hand. "Ditto, Stabler," she said, her brows turning up as she gazed at him. "Is this really what you want, though?"

"Hell, yeah," he told her emphatically. "The last few days with you...your team...it was the first time in years I felt like...myself." He shrugged. "I don't belong behind a desk, I can't be the one telling other people to follow the rules when the rules piss me off. And I sure as fuck can't even think straight without you." He saw the look he was getting from her and he added, "If you're worried about the kids, Liv, what am I really missing out on? They're fully grown, living their own lives, or away at school. Holidays...they'll come to us. I want to be where you are. So we can...start living our own life, too."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she was stopped by the footsteps and low voices coming into the small room beyond the glass. She straightened up and let go of his hand. "What happened?"

Rossi plopped into the nearest chair and let his head fall back. "She wants to talk to a priest."

"She feels that only God can judge her, she's waiving her right to legal representation as well as a trial," Reid told them. "She wants to talk to a priest, make a full confession only to him."

"None of which will be admissible," Olivia said, squinting. "But she doesn't want a trial? So, what, she's pleading guilty?"

"She isn't denying anything," Rossi said, "She is more than willing to go to jail for what she's done, but she will only tell the full story to a priest."

Elliot saw Rossi staring at him. He looked toward Reid, who was also looking at him knowingly. "Oh, no," he said, tilting his head.

"She wants to speak with the priest who saved her from taking another life in the chapel," Reid told him, nodding. "She wants to talk to you."

Elliot squinted. "She thinks I'm a priest?"

Reid nodded. "She said you have the mark," he said. "I'm assuming, in her current mental state, she took your tattoo to be some Holy symbol of the priesthood. Neither Rossi nor I corrected her and as long as she believes you are, she will tell you everything."

"That's not..." Elliot didn't want to fall into some sort of trap. If this was a test to see if he was BAU material, he didn't want to fail. "But isn't that..."

"What we used to do all the time?" Olivia interjected, smirking.

Rossi grinned as Elliot got up out of his seat and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his tattoo again. "Welcome to the club, Stabler," he said.

"Thanks," Elliot said, nodding once. "I think." He took a few steps toward the metal door, took a breath, and reached for the knob, but then said, "Alone?"

Rossi looked from him to Olivia, then he perked up like a happy puppy. "I finally get to witness this first hand," he said eagerly. "Go in there with him, Benson."

Olivia raised one eyebrow, but she rose from her seat and followed Elliot into the interrogation room, knowing that two men she greatly admired would be watching her work with the person who brought out the absolute best in her. "Ready, Father Elliot?" she asked, joking.

He winked. "Oh, yeah."

Reid watched them leave, and Elliot closed the door behind them, and then he turned to Rossi, hoping to stop him before he could steal Olivia's coffee. "It's decaf."

Rossi stopped with her abandoned cup barely touching his lips. "Why?"

"Just in case," Reid said with a coy smile and shrug before turning his attention to the glass, eager to watch the fireworks in the other room. He was in the process of reading their lips when the hallway door opened again. He didn't turn his head, but he knew the scent of the perfume that filtered through the air. "Hey, JJ."

"Hey, Spence," JJ answered, clearly flustered. "Um, we...we may need to rethink keeping Garcia at HQ when we're on the road. I think...that it's getting to Morgan."

Rossi gave her a long look. "How so?" he asked, an air of caution in his words.

JJ blushed a bit as she pulled up a seat beside Reid. "I walked in on them...Skyping." She rolled her shoulders and asked, "What's going on in there?"

Reid said, "Benson and Stabler are breaking Sarah Hyde down." He raised both brows. "Why would you have a problem with them Skyping? That's what they do when we have these long cases away from home."

JJ bit her lip. "Well, Spence, they must have really missed each other this time," she said, patting Reid on the shoulder.

Confused, Reid squinted, then turned back to the interrogation room. He took a few slow breaths as the gears in his head turned, and when he finally realized what JJ had meant, he, too, blushed a bit. "I have to say, I'm relieved that Stabler will be part of this team now, because something tells me, if it came down to that with Benson, I wouldn't survive walking in on that."

JJ and Rossi laughed as they heard Morgan tiptoe into the room, with Hotchner close behind him.

Hotchner looked around, his old team sitting around a table watching his new members earn their stripes. He smiled and folded his arms, and he knew that it was a long time coming, but he'd finally been given a reprieve, and a team that would never let his respect and trust go unrequited.

_**The End**_

_**Peace and Love**_

_**Jo**_


End file.
